


all was golden in the sky

by seasonschange



Category: Mass Effect: Andromeda
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Angst, Author has barely started priority missions, Author made up lots of shit about Angarans, Canonical Character Death, Daddy Issues, Default Emotional Scott, Fluff, Hurt/Comfort, I'm implying tentacles but we don't see them so it's chill, Jealous Jaal, M/M, Minor Spoilers, Pining, Sappy, because Scott deserves a purple alien bunny too, just some resolved sexual tension, survivor's guilt
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-04-09
Updated: 2017-04-09
Packaged: 2018-10-13 15:00:09
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,555
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10516098
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/seasonschange/pseuds/seasonschange
Summary: Scott loves Jaal, Jaal loves Scott, and SAM doesn't have a sense of humor (or timing) but he knows true love when he can data mine it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> My first Scottjaal fic!
> 
> I started writing this after my Scott baaaarely met the Angara. I'm also still waiting on Bioware to #MakeJaalBi (fingers crossed for next patches!), so this is what I'm doing instead of playing lmao.
> 
>  **6/7 update:** FUCK YEAH JAAL IS BI!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!!! *sob/laugh*

* * *

‘You know,’ Scott grunted, screwing open a particularly recalcitrant panel below SAM’s console, both knees on the ground and Initiative jacket slung over one shoulder. ‘You’d think the Nexus would put better security around their last hope of finding a new habitable world. I’m not’—another stubborn screw—‘being unreasonable, right?’

As he painstakingly pursued his task, legs starting to cramp from holding this position for too long and the tips of his fingers going numb from being rubbed raw, Scott was almost tempted to call defeat.

Almost. Then he remembered that he was here to be alone, and that calling a Nexus technician would mean having to be more social than he could bear at the moment.

Spending his nights at SAM Node alone had become sort of a habit since the infamous landing on Habitat 7. Scott needed to withdraw from the rest of the colony; from all the obsessively curious, and pitying looks he could never escape. Whenever he had to go out, Scott always felt the weight of those stares like a solid armor that stiffened his gait and made his neck itch.

It wasn’t right. _He_ wasn't the one who deserved everybody's sympathy. The only reason his father was now listed as KIA along with all the unlucky pioneers of Eos, was because _Scott_ had been unable to hold his ground on the mission.

He had killed his own father.

Unintentionally—but it'd still been his fault. Powerless, as he suffocated and desperately fought to overcome the toxic waste burning down his throat and under his eyelids, he had watched his father _die_ because of his own failure.

Despite everyone’s assumptions that it was an accident, Scott knew better. He knew in his heart that it was his own _goddamned_ fault the Nexus had lost their most experienced, most promising Pathfinder.

His father had had no other choice but to give his life in exchange of Scott's. And now Scott Ryder was the colonists' new hope, and he hardly even knew how to do his job yet. It put an incredible amount of pressure to know that he no longer could allow himself any error margin. He had his own successors as Pathfinder, sure, but any mistake right now could mean irreparable consequences for the Nexus and its inhabitants. With provisions getting scarcer with each passing hour and no promise of a Golden World on the horizon... the probability that anyone could still salvage the Initiative after Scott was close to zero.

So now every time Scott told this story; every time he voiced his name and rank and someone’s disapproving gaze met his, defiant and accusatory, Scott wanted nothing more but to open his mouth and agree with them wholeheartedly.

 _Of course_ his father was the one who should be standing there in his place.

 _Of course_ people had a right to look at him with disappointment and barely-veiled worry in their eyes.

Scott had been meant to follow his father’s training for _years_ to come after their arrival on Habitat 7. Cora, another of his father’s disciples, had been more experienced and more deserving of the role of Pathfinder than Scott could ever be, and yet… yet the honor, and the crushing weight of responsibilities that went with the title had fallen upon _his_ shoulders, instead.

And he couldn't bring himself to burden anyone with all these doubts. No one else deserved to feel like the room was slowly being depressurized, and they were left gasping for air; scrambling for solutions like a blind man looking for purchase on unfamiliar ground.

He couldn't do that to his crew, who depended on him and trusted Scott to guide them—not to unload his life story on them.

And Sara, despite being all Scott had left, deserved rest. And her illusions of safety and complete success.

Thinking of her now, Scott momentarily closed his eyes, and fought the visions of his sister on her deathbed that showed up behind his eyelids every night when he went to sleep; or tried to, anyway. Maybe he'd been wrong to lie to her, but at least one of them was at peace. For the time being.

_Please, don't leave me alone, sis. Not after we've come so far._

_[ I agree. Director Tann needs to be informed that the situation has escalated. ]_

SAM’s disembodied voice, always unexpectedly loud and clear inside his head brought him back to the present, and Scott opened his eyes to stare at his grease stained hands still clutching the screwdriver.

This was the reason why he chose to remain in SAM Node rather than stride along the Nexus during downtime. Thanks to SAM's presence, more pronounced in here than usual, SAM Node was the only place where Scott could focus on more tangible problems. It was easier to set aside emotions like grief and fear when conversing with the AI; everything more analytic. Detached and easier to approach.

So Scott split his time between his cabin at the Tempest, the long and strenuous planet-side recon missions and SAM Node, where he'd been trying, and mostly failing, to recover his father's personal logs. His father had encrypted them with an unusually complicated system even SAM had trouble cracking, and it took a conjoint effort to get any kind of progress. In their latest attempt however, they'd been rudely interrupted by SAM's console catching fire. Yet another attempt at 'freeing' the Pathfinder of his AI prison.

_[ Had the insurgents found a way to disable the internal security protocols of my core, I’d have died. And the Pathfinder along with me. ]_

Scott looked up with a horrified expression, forgetting himself for a split second. SAM had no visage he could look at to gauge his intentions, so the reaction was pointless. He would meet no sympathetic face; only the materialization of SAM’s matrix. But the blunt reminder of their codependency came as a shock. It always did, no matter how much he got used to their very intimate link.

The knowledge that the AI was so tightly woven into his brain that any damage to the program could be deadly for the both of them _never_ _stopped_ feeling like a charging Krogan to the plexus.

The shock, and the rising nausea didn't last, however. Schooling his features, Scott managed to reign in his spiking anxiety, and push aside all thoughts of being struck down _dead_ at any moment, only due to a SAM malfunction.

He wiped the sweat pooling at his brow and shrugged, eyes still trained on the mass of electric blue code.

‘Let’s hope the latest attempt will help our case, then. Tann hasn’t been very forthcoming since we brought him a brand new species to worry about, but a direct attack meant to cripple the AI of a Pathfinder should be hard to ignore.’

 _[ I have noticed the discovery of the Angara worlds has put a lot of additional stress on the Director. ]_  

‘Yeah. I think he’s worried the Angara will start asking for assistance we can’t provide. And we’re all stretched thin with the Kett attacks.’

With no warning sign whatsoever a soft, but definitely noticeable laugh erupted behind him and Scott stood hastily up, his entire body going rigid at the unexpected sound.

* * *

 

For all that they looked acutely humanoid, Angara had however a distinct way of laughing that could hardly be mistaken for any other species’. It was merely breathing but of a louder, more deliberate sort. An audibly joyful giggle with no vocal chords involved.

How it could already feel so familiar when they'd only known each other for a few days—not even a standard week, yet!—Scott had no idea.

But he could have recognized Jaal's laughter anywhere.

That was probably one of the many, _many_ reasons why being attracted to another crew member was highly frowned upon. There weren't so many regulations written against it for nothing.

It was dangerous to let himself feel this way; it was a distraction in a time when Scott needed to remain focused on his objectives, and the success of the Initiative. _Not_ on whether a certain person _fancied_ him or not. But ever since they'd allowed the Angaran to board the Tempest, Scott's precious focus had been all over the place—or more accurately, it had been set on one place in particular: wherever the purple skinned Angaran had chosen to reside aboard his ship.

It was the sort of irrational attraction there was no cure for. Scott couldn't even explain the sudden, and completely unexpected _want_ the moment he'd spotted Jaal on Aya.

It'd been nearly impossible to look away. It had been the excitement of the novelty, without a doubt, but not only. There'd been something in the Angaran's presence, something deeply soothing and satisfying in standing in his shadow, or looking up into his round, gorgeous eyes.

And then, Jaal was tall. And _God_ , Scott had more than a passing weakness for tall men.

Aliens.

_Whatever._

Now, a casual glance over his shoulder confirmed his suspicions; there was the silhouette of the Angaran, his visor glinting amicably in the semi-darkness.

'Heya, Jaal,' Scott ventured, and immediately regretted the impulse when his voice sounded strangely small in his ears. He cleared his throat, and tried again. 'Found something funny?'

'Funny,' Jaal repeated in his deep, and unmistakably alien voice. Scott tried not to shiver too visibly. 'No, not funny. I am very pleased that you've helped so many of my people, and I needed to thank you in person.'

_Goddamn it, Jaal. You couldn't have sent an email?_

_[ Pathfinder, may I remind you I am currently the only entity able to share your thoughts. ]_

'I know that,' Scott snapped right back. 'Oh shit, I wasn't—that was for SAM, sorry.'

'SAM. Your AI?'

A half-shrug, too busy digging his fingers in the seams of the panel and prying it open with great effort. Damn, the thing was heavy, but with good reason. The Nexus had been built to withstand a long and strenuous journey.

'Yeah. And he usually knows not to butt in when I'm talking to people. I'd rather not be remembered as _'that one crazy guy who was always talking to himself'_ if I can help it.'

Panel in hands, Scott took a step back and unexpectedly bumped into something.

Something solid, but also warm and very much alive.

'Wha—Seriously, what _are_ you, an alien ninja?!'

This time Scott could feel Jaal's laughter, his breath tickling the side of his neck.

'Alright, glad I don't gotta explain the ninja part,' he said, joking to distract the other from noticing his shivers of delight.

Scott then took only a little longer than was appropriate before stepping away from the Angaran's intoxicating proximity.

'You're welcome, by the way. I mean, about your people? I'm always happy to lend a hand.'

'Humanity needs all the allies it can get,' Jaal agreed, the galaxies in his eyes alight with understanding and sympathy. 'The Angara are familiar with this kind of position all too well.'

Scott shook his head, a small smile tugging at his lips. 'Nah, c'mon Jaal, you know it isn't _only_ about diplomacy, right? I really care, you know? You guys lost your home worlds to the Kett. You didn't choose to be a part of this like we did. And now on top of everything, you have to deal with these aliens who've come to colonize your galaxy, too? It just never stops sucking for you. So I feel for your people, I really do. I don't want us to be yet another burden. I—I want to help.'

Jaal's brow lifted, giving him a startled expression that was also particularly comical. 'That is very kind of you, Ryder. I did not expect humans could care as deeply as Angara. I am, again, very grateful for your assistance.'

And just like that, Scott's elation at being with Jaal; at being _sought out_ by the Angaran and given compliments that cut his heart into thin slices in the _best of way—_ it was all crushed.

_Ryder._

Emotional distance. That was a pretty clear line in the sand, right there.

Scott had been calling the Angaran by his first name since they'd met, but hard as he tried, he'd never gotten the other to reciprocate. And that said it all.

To SAM, to his crew, and to everyone else on the Nexus, he was Ryder, or the Pathfinder.

 _And that's how it should remain_ , he reminded himself, squashing all frivolous desires for more.

With a quick, jerky nod, he acknowledged Jaal's gratitude and forcing himself to remember his mission, and all the people who counted on him to keep his head level and not mess everything up, he returned to the task at hand, going back to his knees and proceeding to scan the insides of the damaged console.

Jaal remained the whole time at his side, providing counsel along with SAM, and he watched over Scott until the repairs were done.

Scott had never been in such a hurry to escape SAM Node, and barely bid Jaal goodbye before exiting the chamber, needing to put some distance between the Angaran and his aching heart.

* * *

 

_'Fighter, if I could have a word with you?'_

The Angaran tore his gaze away from the doorway, where the delightfully intriguing human had disappeared only moments ago, and directed his curious eyes at the cloud of luminescent code instead.

'You wish to speak with me? I'm honored.'

_'I wish to discuss a private matter in regards to the Pathfinder.'_

Jaal wiped a particle of dust from his visor and nodded his encouragement.

_'Since our joining, I've been processing the new Pathfinder's thoughts and emotional stimuli in order to achieve a perfect symbiosis between our 'minds', and the data I've been able to compile all indicates that Scott Ryder harbors particularly strong emotions towards a specific crew member.'_

Sudden, but not unfamiliar jealousy struck like the malevolent Remnant lightening.

_There was someone!_

_There was already someone in Ryder's life!_

The Angaran closed his fists and stomped his foot, displeased and feeling no need to hide it. He'd thought he had time. He had never felt like the human had anyone else in his life beside his sister, and his crew of loyal fighters.

But now, there was a rival!

Eyes blazing with fury, Jaal struggled to enunciate: 'Who-who does Scott Ryder favor?'

 _Favor over me_ , his traitorous heart whimpered, and now Jaal was breathing hard and fast, fingers itching to grab his gun and shoot the AI until complete destruction.

But he needed to know; there was no use pretending he hadn't been waiting, and wanting, and _hoping_ to someday catch the human's interest, and show him just how deeply Jaal wished he could care for him.

For now, Jaal didn't care. Not yet. But it'd come. Angara were quick to develop emotional bonds, and if only Scott Ryder could _let him_ , that'd be all it took.

Jaal would belong to him body and soul.

But the AI didn't answer. Or rather, it kept rattling theories down in a monotonous voice as if this was nothing more but cold figures.

_'Feelings are a paramount part of human psychology, and I fear any emotional distress or frustration might impede the Pathfinder's mission, if not lead to its complete failure. After careful consideration, and an analysis of the Pathfinder's recent behavioral pattern, I therefore believe it is my duty to ensure the probability of the occurrence of such a relationship—'_

'Will you speak already, or shall I start breaking parts off you until you comply!' The Angaran bellowed, drowning the synthetic voice.

A deafening silence followed his cry, and in the aftermath of his outburst Jaal could only breathe and listen to his frenzied heartbeat.

His own voice was still echoing inside his head and in the room; the ghost of a ripple sensation against the soft membrane of his ears. And he was suddenly _deeply_ ashamed of his outburst.

This... wasn't him. He lowered his arms, adopting a peaceful stance and opened his mouth, ready to offer an apology.

But the AI was faster.

_'My estimations indicate the one Scott Ryder desires is you, Jaal Ama Darav.'_

The words took a certain time to sink in.

They were simple, yes, but their meaning had the effect of a tidal over the Angaran's heart, destroying everything in its wake, but with the promise of something brand new waiting to be sown, and allowed to bloom.

Relief. He felt profound relief.

Immediately Jaal colored a brighter shade of purple, pleasure and excitement replacing all his previous bitterness in the blink of an eye.

 _Ryder_ , he thought, heart pounding anew in his chest, pumping not only life but _hope_ through his veins.

'Are you sure?' He asked; had to, because if Ryder's heart was truly yearning for him, why had the human never sought him out? Never requested to speak to him in private, or offered to spend time together on the Nexus or the Tempest?

_'Yes. Scott Ryder is prone to using avoidance techniques rather than direct confrontation in relation to his personal desires, and you're the only crew member he's kept at arms' length in the most stubborn fashion since the beginning of your collaboration. In addition, I have further analysed the Pathfinder's physiological response to your immediate proximity, and the data is consistent. He's attracted to you, or at the very least, to your species.'_

Jaal blinked. The intricacies of the human psychology made little to no sense to his Angaran mind, but the AI was human technology, and had been studying them far longer than he had. He could only trust it to be right.

_'I would now like to offer some advice on your options if you're equally willing to commit to such a relationship.'_

Tempted, and so eager _—_ Jaal walked up to the central console and braced himself against it.

When he pictured himself confronting the human about his feelings, he couldn't deny he felt out of his element. How did one court humans? And specifically, human males? In ways that wouldn't send them running, or worse: drawing their guns in outrage?

'Please,' he said, voice thick with emotion. 'Enlighten me.'

* * *

 

For the most part of the Tempest's latest trip across Andromeda, which had been scheduled to take approximately eight space standard days without mass relays floating around to boost their engines, Scott had remained holed up in his cabin.

His downright _outrageously_ luxurious cabin. Often when he was looking around and still trying to get used to his temporary home, Scott had to wonder if he deserved any of this comfort when the rest of his team had to make do with standard crew quarters. Common rooms. Common showers. Common space, all around, at all times. And those were the guys who arguably did most of the work keeping the Pathfinder safe against Kett and inhospitable wildlife.

On times like these, though, Scott felt a little less charitable as he absently bobbed his head in time with the music flooding his private quarters. The thought of having to be in the same room as a certain alien; having to live at his side day and night was enough to give him the beginning of a headache. And a _heart_ ache.

It wasn't so bad to have a nice place.

To hide.

Because the force of his longing scared him; the past two weeks and his constant, hyper-awareness of Jaal had proven it wasn't getting better. It was only getting _deeper_. Jaal was growing right under his skin, right in the center of his ribcage and Scott knew he wouldn't be able to fight this attraction forever. Only a few days earlier he'd thought Jaal was... maybe flirting with him? The compliment had seemed way too... personal not to feel that way. And Scott had almost blurted out then and there some idiocy or another about liking everything about the goddamn Angaran.

He couldn't fight it, but he could damn well _postpone_ the day he eventually went and made a complete and utter ass of himself. He could maybe even avoid every kind of one-on-one situation until Jaal was called back to his homeworld, one day or another. Because that was bound to happen, no matter what the Angaran claimed.

All Scott had to do until such a day had come was keep his distances, at all times. Because anything else would mean taking the risk of losing control. Of reading the mood wrong, and assuming something that wasn't there. Of doing something he'd sorely regret later.

Like casually petting the guy's collar.

Grabbing fistfuls of it.

Pulling the Angaran down for a kiss.

_Making a move on his fucking crew member._

'Yeaaaah,' Scott muttered under his breath, forcing his mailbox closed with a flicker of his hand. 'Why not sexually harass the guy working under you, Scott? That'll look great on your resume.'

Who was he kidding, really; Jaal was an important member of his civilization, one of the leaders of their Resistance and a clearly brilliant mind. Compared to him, Scott was… well, he was a lucky bastard with little to no _actual_ qualifications for his job. He could still feel the weight of the Salarian team’s disapproving glares when he’d called their science research _‘cool lab stuff’_.

Yeah, he had said that to the face of a Salarian without even thinking twice. He was a goddamn moron all around.

With a self-deprecating groan, he stood from his desk and stretched his arms and back until he heard a satisfying _pop_ . It was time to leave the safety of his cabin to slink through the ship in search of food. _Real_ food, not the salted protein bars he'd been living off of since... yeah, so, real food.

* * *

 

The sight that greeted Jaal upon his arrival into the captain's cabin was Ryder's lean figure stretching in front of the large bay window. For a human male, Ryder was breathtakingly appealing, even to an Angaran eye. Jaal had noticed the way a few other members of the Tempest crew let their eyes roam the Pathfinder's body when he wasn't watching, so he knew for a fact that he wasn't alone in his unspoken appreciation.

Before his first conversation with SAM, and the AI's revelations, Jaal would have resented anyone so overtly coveting Ryder, and maybe even challenged them to a merciless fight for Ryder's affections.

Knowing where the human's preferences lay had helped brush off those impulses, although Jaal was yet to fully believe everything the AI had disclosed. Jaal had been following SAM's advice but so far Scott Ryder had remained one very stealthy, very unreceptive potential mate.

It was the reason for his uninvited presence.

The Angara were not known for their patience, although they could exercise it if need be. But after finishing the last of his provisions of Angaran food that the Resistance usually made sure to supply on a regular basis, and discovering that he needn't worry because the captain had apparently ordered fresh shipments of goods from Aya days before the unexpected shortage—Jaal needed to know.

He needed to get a definitive answer from the human, even if it meant the use of drastic seduction techniques SAM had not yet deemed necessary. He couldn't keep on pretending he didn't feel Scott's silent and unobtrusive care for him, and _especially_ him. Not after such a thoughtful gesture.

Not when he could, sometimes, feel the sadness and the longing pouring from the man when he looked at Jaal, and did nothing. Said nothing. SAM's advice had been eye-opening, but not nearly enough to coax Scott out of his self-imposed celibacy, or convince him of Jaal's shared feelings.

The Angara weren't meant to hide their feelings; all those did was fester until they became poison, not an expression of the soul.

It was now time for last resorts, and that meant _Angaran_ seduction.

* * *

 

SAM announced his arrival, and somehow, Ryder managed to hear it through the noises inside his cabin.

He turned carefully around and after a jerky nod of acknowledgment, he waved Jaal in.

'What is this noise?' Jaal asked as the doors slid closed behind him.

Scott laughed, and scratched his cheek.

'That's classical music. Angaran don't have music?'

Jaal frowned. 'These... _sounds_ are truly what humans call music? That is a disturbing revelation.'

'Aw, you're just not used to it! Give it some time and Nickelback will grow on you.'

‘I doubt it,’ he replied with grave finality, the delicate membranes protecting his ears rippling in discomfort.

Jaal had only meant to express his opinion, but the resulting emotion on the human’s pale face was rather disproportionate.

Ryder’s face fell like he’d just heard some horrible news. He’d been smiling and cheerful only moments ago, yet now the sadness that seemed to cling to him like a second skin had returned, and the light in his eyes, those little pools of crystal blue, was gone in an instant.

Had he done that?

Did his opinion hold so much importance for the Pathfinder?

The thought was like fuel added to the embers of his hope, especially for Jaal’s plans regarding Ryder.

‘Sorry,’ he heard the man mumble as he turned away to switch off the music. Jaal could hear him clearly, now, and he didn’t miss the sadness tinging his voice. ‘I shouldn’t have pushed. Anyway, did you want something in particular? I’m quite busy…’

The human male was too transparent for his own good. The constant hints of self-denigration and doubt were awakening every instinct in Jaal’s very blood to protect and comfort. Ryder’s kindness that he extended to every species, whoever they were and wherever they came from, resonated with Jaal’s deepest convictions.

Jaal inhaled deeply in order to lessen the tension that’d coiled into his muscles as he stood ready to act. Ryder was not Angaran, and Jaal needed to be… gentle. Gentler than he was used to. He needed his first attempt at seducing the human to succeed, because it was likely the only chance he’d be given.

‘Yes,’ he finally said, stepping forward. ‘There is something I want.’

* * *

There was a shift in the air—then Jaal wrapped his arms around Scott's chest so tightly it was suddenly hard to breathe.

Scott gasped before he was shoved back into the Angaran's protruding chest, and held there.

Scott didn't resist the brusque pull; didn't even _think_ of resisting. He could only let himself be manhandled while he stared straight ahead at the immensity of space, eyes wide open in his shock.

'Whh—'he valiantly stuttered, but before he could form a single coherent thought something wet came in contact with his skin, right above the collar of his uniform, and his thoughts scattered among the stars.

It was the Angaran’s tongue; rough and slippery and so, _so hot_.

'Oh, god,' he moaned as Jaal licked him from the base of his neck to the back of his skull, tasting skin and close-cropped hairs.

_[ Pathfinder. Should I alert— ]_

Scott’s head fell forward of its own volition, exposing even more of his neck as he mentally kicked the door shut to what he imagined to be SAM’s link to Scott’s immediate perceptions. This was _so not_ the time for his AI to make an appearance, and hopefully he had at least _something_ on ‘never disturb a human about to get lucky’.

When SAM remained blissfully silent, Scott reached behind himself to grab a fistful of Jaal’s jacket, silently begging him to stay closer. And Jaal seemed to understand the invitation, his mouth descending on him again, lips leaving a burning trail down the knobs of Scott’s spine.

‘Jaal… always… so much… _please, don’t stop_ …’

The words tumbled out of his mouth among other, more animalistic sounds Scott couldn’t reconcile as coming from him.

When the Angaran pushed his collar and bit him at the juncture of neck and shoulder, Scott’s groan was pure ecstasy.

After his mind had cleared again, Scott found himself dragged away from his desk, and towards the sleeping area, Jaal’s alien body towering over him as he led the way with his back to the bed, webbed fingers closed tightly around Scott’s bicep.

‘I will not stop,’ Jaal declared once the back of his legs hit the mattress. ‘There is no stopping, now.’

‘Good,’ Scott whispered faintly.

He was pulled back into Jaal’s arms and down onto the bed. And then they kind of lied down on their sides, staring at each other’s flushed face. ‘So… how do the Angara go about this stuff? I mean, sex? If that’s what _this_ is, of course. Heh.’

Scott clamped his mouth shut, realizing he was rambling and that it was not sexy at all. He still had no idea what had gotten into Jaal but even if it was some alien biology thing, like a sudden and imperious urge to mate because _‘hormones!’_ then he was fine with it.

If it meant he could have a few moments in Jaal’s arms, where he could pretend he was cared for and cherished beyond belief—then it was worth it. Any moment with Jaal would always be.

Jaal’s bony forehead came in contact with Scott’s, and he couldn’t help opening his eyes. He was immediately swallowed by the twin galaxies staring back at him.

‘Ryder. This isn’t sex.’

Scott opened his mouth to object; something among the lines of _‘excuse you, then what does licking me like a cone of ice cream lead to, exactly? Friendly cuddles?’_

However the thought never passed his lips, a gasp escaping him instead when Jaal rolled over to lay atop him.

‘I have not come to you for meaningless sexual relief. I wish to court you, Ryder. And perhaps, someday, to see our families joined.’

Taken aback by the words ‘court’, Scott stared up at the Angaran straddling him, _in his own bed_ , with a look of pure confusion.

‘Are you… _confessing_ to me right now?’

‘I am.’

‘Holy shit.’

Jaal’s smooth brow arched up questioningly, giving him that funny look again that Scott always found so endearing. This time, he reached out and stroked the supple skin above Jaal’s focused eyes, wondering at the vision of his own next to the dark purple hue of the Angaran. It was a stark contrast, just like them.

‘Sorry, I’m just-I'm surprised. Maybe a bit in shock, too. But happily so. I kind of thought I was the only one wanting this.’

‘No,’ Jaal rectified almost instantly, taking Scott’s hand and bringing it to his lips. ‘We are two.’

‘Good,’ Scott let out a brief, exhilarated laugh. ‘This is… I’ve wanted this since day one.’

‘Ryder, I am sorry I was unaware of your feelings.’

And he truly seemed apologetic, his gorgeous eyes downcast. Scott wanted to reassure him he was _far_ from expecting any kinds of apologies since there was nothing to forgive, but quickly decided against talking over the Angaran, afraid of coming off as rude or worse: uninterested.

‘Your actions have conveyed in countless ways, however,' Jaal continued, 'what your words could not. You welcomed me aboard your ship. You risked your life, and your mission, and your crew for the sake of my people. You took care of my personal comfort by ordering new supplies from Aya, and you never asked for anything in return. It has taken me time and a bit of help to understand, but I can see you now. And I’ve… also felt the same way for you. Since day one.’

The quiet declaration was like a balm, healing old scars and chasing away what was left of Scott’s insecurities.

They’d been two fools in love from the beginning. Was this really happening?

‘Do you, um, maybe wanna kiss?’ Scott ventured when all Jaal did was gaze at him in silence, caressing his face, his cheekbones, the bridge of his nose in slow, gentle strokes. ‘Do Angara kiss each other?’

‘We’ve been known to resort to it sometimes, yes.’ Jaal delivered the line with a perfectly straight face, but Scott could discern a mischievous glint in his eyes, and his laughter bubbled up to the surface again.

Jaal kissed him without a warning, lips tasting Scott's smile and infusing him with more warmth than he’d ever experienced before.

Jaal’s lips were thin and delicate, and oddly shaped, and more than once the sheer alien sensation of them pressed tightly against Scott’s mouth with their tongues invading and exploring had Scott’s mind going blank, forgetting where he was or what was happening, only focusing on sensations so new he had no possible point of comparison.

It was good. Everywhere Jaal’s rough hands touched and caressed, sliding under his clothes, unfastening belts and zippers, it was nothing but divine.

‘Ryder,’ Jaal moaned once they were both free of every last barrier between them, sounding broken and whole at the same time. _‘Scott.’_

Scott was ready to bet his name had never sounded better.

* * *

Scott bit down on Jaal’s jutting collarbone and came, the hoarse, drawn-out groan that might have been Jaal’s name shuddering out of him in time with his release.

‘You smell good when you find your pleasure,’ Jaal purred contentedly into Scott's ear once he was done shaking and had gracelessly fallen face first on the Angaran’s chest. ‘I could mate with you until you cried for mercy.’

And he had. At this point, Scott had lost all notions of time and space. He suspected it couldn’t have been more than a couple of standard hours, but it felt like they’d been going at it for _days._

And Jaal was still inside him, moving in ways no man should have been able to, and reaching all of his most sensitive places at once; and technically speaking, he _wasn’t_ a man. He was Angara, and as he’d proven over and over tonight, Angaran biology differed _quite_ a bit from humans.

But it didn’t matter how different they were.

Not when it felt so good when they fit together.

And not when Scott already felt so deeply for his purple skinned lover.

‘But I wonder: would the taste rival the scent?’

Jaal slid out of him with barely any discomfort in his wake, and lowered Scott to the bed before covering him like a live blanket.

‘If you wanna suck my dick,’ Scott breathed out, still trying to catch his breath. ‘Be my guest.’

Jaal's mouth tightened into a smile, his cheekbones turning a darker shade of purple at the invitation.

His fondness for Scott despite his shortcomings, his lack of experience on the field, and even his big mouth was _so clear_ in that moment, it made Scott’s eyes water and his heart ache with answering affection and love.

When Jaal took him inside his mouth he made more of those purring noises, dark and powerful body coiled between Scott's quivering legs, rough alien hands holding him in place when then pleasure began to escalate and he couldn't help his body's instinctive attempt to fuck the Angaran's mouth.

The excitement and the pleasure were quickly culminating in an incredibly fast recovery, even for his age, but when he tried to warn Jaal, giving him a weak but insistent push, begging him to let him go—all he got in response were harder, more determined suctions on his cock.

Scott's orgasm was sudden and fast, and in this temporary bliss there was no room for shame at being so easily unraveled.

Not when it was Jaal's hands and mouth and heart that were taking him apart.

* * *

 

When he woke up, Scott was immediately aware of the solid body he was using as a pillow _and_ a teddy bear. A quick glance told him it had not been a dream (thank god for that), and that he was indeed snuggled comfortably into Jaal’s side.

The Angaran returned his gaze of happy wonder, seeming to have woken up some time before Scott himself.

A yawn cut off whatever clumsy attempt at a morning conversation Scott was about to make, and he rolled away to bury his face into his actual pillow.

Jaal’s laughter was a wonderful sound in the morning.

Or whichever moment of the day this was supposed to be.

‘Hey... I have a question,’ Scott eventually mumbled into his pillow.

‘Yes?’

One of Jaal's arms snuck between the mattress and Scott's stomach, and the Angaran shifted until they were spooning like any other couple, this time on Scott's side of the bed. Scott sighed happily at the gesture.

‘When you said you wanted our families to 'join', did you mean… marriage?’

‘The Angaran tradition is to join family names when a new union is celebrated. So, a marriage, yes.’

‘Oh. Wow. And we get a brand spanking new name? Just for ourselves?’

‘That is correct. Though it is usually a succession of both names, especially if the outcome of a mix between the two is... not very aesthetic. I personally find ‘Scott Ama Darav Ryder’ to have a very pleasant ring to it,’ he added smugly, shifting even closer to Scott who was still hiding his now quickly reddening face.

‘Hmmm,’ he reflected into his pillow.

When he finally turned to lie on his side, Jaal moved with him, and they readjusted their bodies—still very alien to one another—until they were cuddling.

Once they settled, Scott was blushing again. If he'd thought before singing up for the Initiative that he'd find himself six hundred years later in bed with a new species and be  _cuddled_ by one of them... he would have pulled a muscle from laughing.

It wasn’t enough that they were discussing _marriage_ , but Jaal also had to be as much of a sweetheart in bed as he was in all things.

Jaal was all at once too much and not enough. And Scott felt sorry that such a brilliant and loving being wanted to tie the knot with the likes of him. And with his shitty defensive mechanism already rising and taking form inside his head, he knew he was about to ruin the romantic mood in record time. But if that was what Jaal wanted, he was going to get it.

And hopefully, decide Scott was still worth it.

One could dream.

‘Okay, but get this: how about ‘Scott Ryder Ama Darav’. I think _that_ sounds even better. And hey, ‘Jaal Ryder’ isn’t half ba— _umpf’_

His first instinct at having a pillow shoved into his face was shock, with a momentary undercurrent of panic. But then the heartwarming sound of Jaal’s laughter caught his attention, and it all made sense again.

Scott struggled against Jaal’s grip on the pillow, shifting from right to left, but it was in vain and soon enough he was laughing, too, and wondering what he had done right in a previous life to have finally found someone capable of putting up with his bullshit.

_[ Pathfinder, if I may. I too have worried on multiple occasions that you might turn out to be a hopeless case. I'm glad to find out I was, for once, wrong. ]_

‘Oh you, _shut up_ ,’ Scott said between hysterical gasps for breath.

* * *

 


End file.
